Wounded
by TheInquisitorBrave
Summary: Cullen is left critically wounded when an Assassin enters Skyhold. Evelyn can't bear to let him go and Cullen can't bear to leave. He loves her too much. Commander X Human Inquisitor. R&R, let me know what you think!
1. Chapter 1

**Cullen is left critically wounded when an Assassin enters Skyhold. Evelyn can't bear to let him go and Cullen can't bear to leave. He loves her too much.**

 **CommanderXInquisitor**

* * *

Cullen rarely took his armour off before a public meeting and there was a reason for that, but this time he decided against his usual attire, leaving most of his bulky armour in his chambers. Little did he know that would be an almost grave mistake.

Stood watching refugees pour through Skyhold's doors, Cullen felt pretty safe stood beside the Inquisitor as she sat on the throne, her eyes scanning each face and smiling when she caught the gaze of an awestruck child.

The Great Hall welcomed anybody in need. Varric could be heard bellowing a merry welcome to anyone who would listen, likely concocting a new chapter in his saga, zipping around from person-to-person fishing for stories he could exaggerate.

Nobody could predict the violent turn such an event would take. Not even with all the guards present and the Inquisition's main party scattered about the room.

The Commander watched as a frail, elderly woman stopped short of the Inquisitor. She gazed up as if she saw the Maker before her.

A small ageing woman with greying hair and a curved frame began to approach the throne, taking a cautious and unsteady pace up the steps to meet the Auburn woman sat watching.

Cullen's instincts kicked in almost immediately as he stepped forward to prevent the older lady getting any closer. But a soft and graceful hand touched the small of his back, stopping him in his tracks, leaving his skin warm but suddenly lonely.

Evelyn merely glanced into his eyes and it was enough to convey her message. She wanted to meet this lady, she wanted to listen to the ramblings as the elder gave thanks and praise to the Herald. It was a tiresome process meeting every dignitary, every refugee and every soldier that wanted to speak with the Inquisitor but she always took the role on with honour and strength, never showing signs of growing weary.

Cullen watched in silent admiration for the woman who took on so much, during such a dark time.

A stunning rogue stood in a deep blue tunic, complimenting her entire figure as she cupped the hands of an elderly woman. Evelyn's hair glistened as it rested on one shoulder and her ocean blue eyes reflected only love and understanding. His heart always skipped whenever he laid eyes on her, even before coming to Skyhold, she could make him flutter without saying a word.

Maker, she was the most beautiful creature.

Perhaps being distracted by such a woman was the reason he missed the unusual hooded figure, skirting the sides of the great hall and approaching the throne.

The only warning Cullen had was a small commotion to his right as guards tried to prevent the figure getting any closer, his attention pulled away from Evelyn, only long enough to come face on with a snarling face and a hot blade.

A crude dagger with serrated edges tore open the Commander's skin, forcing its way into his body to the hilt and revealing the most excruciating heat never felt before.

For a few seconds, Cullen stood, dumbstruck by the brazen face of evil as the world grew silent. The sounds of chattering no longer echoed through the halls and the internal conversation in his mind fell silent.

It was only when the face yanked the blade from his body, tearing the air from his lungs, the Commander realise what was happening but he was already powerless to stop it.

All of a sudden his heart was pounding in his chest, screaming to tell him something was wrong. His lungs heaved for air but caught again when the Assassin ripped his way back in, an almighty arm wrapping around his victim, pulling them both closer together.

Cullen's hands grasped for the knife but he was unable to pull his attackers hand away, unable to stop him from wiggling the blade before wrenching it back out. He was already too slick with blood.

The next thing Cullen knew, he was half laid on the steps in front of the throne, his body a sprawled mess as he bled out from the two angry wounds in his stomach.

He was gasping for breath all the while staring up at the rafters, wooden beams stretching across the Hall, stopping the ceiling from caving in on them.

"Cullen!" Somebody's voice broke through for a few seconds but he wasn't sure where it came from, off to his left somewhere. "Cullen?"

Fingers and hands abruptly appeared at his sides, pressing and prodding his afflictions, making him scream out in pain. But there was only one pair of hands he cared for and as they grabbed his face, he felt an unusual sense of peace.

Evelyn's face appeared only inches from his own, her electric blue eyes flashing with fear as they met his. He didn't want her to be afraid.

Her hands were always so warm, he noticed that whenever they brushed in the War Room, her skin so soft and smooth. They ghosted his cheeks, fingers ran through his hair and back down to his chin as she tried to comfort him.

It didn't matter. She was there with him. If it was time, then it was time. "Ev-Evelyn..."

She smiled a weak, watery smile and leant down closer, the tip of her nose just touching his. "It's okay." She looked away for a few moments, down to the chaos of people at Cullen's feet before looking back.

He didn't ever want her to look away again.

His heart skipped again when their eyes reconnected, letting him smile and ignore the feeling of warm blood as it tickled his fingertips.

It felt like an eternity when his hand finally reached up, heavy and aching like he'd been swinging a broad sword for hours. But it was bliss when he finally touched her skin, the warmth radiated into his cold, calloused hand.

Cullen wanted to speak and tell her everything he felt in the last few minutes of his life.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved seeing her walk the battlements in the fading sun, how he worshipped the way she danced in battle, even the way she held her cool during debates.

He needed to tell Evelyn that he never intended to give back the book he borrowed, that way she would have to come to find it. He wanted to tell her how his lyrium addled dreams weren't always bad, sometimes they were so unbelievably hot he would wake up panting for air, he would force himself not to climb out of bed and jump into hers.

But between the blood rushing from his body and the stone cold steps, he could hardly push out her name.

"Evelyn..."

She placed her hands over Cullen's, not caring if he smeared blood over her face. Pulling her closer still, her silky smooth mouth just millimetres from his but he couldn't do it.

His racing heart, his aching lungs and the driving pressure in his stomach made it impossible. So he just stared into her eyes, committing every freckle and wild hair to his memory so he could die with the woman he loved guiding him to peace.

The fierce change in her face said enough, he was losing his fight.

Cullen could feel his eyes burning and growing heavy, his arms becoming weaker by the second. The pain began to dull with the world around him, it was almost impossible to hear his name being called out, so he just laid there waiting to meet the Maker.

"Evelyn."


	2. Chapter 2

Evelyn refused to leave his side.

There was no diplomat, no village in need or War Room meeting that could tear her away from Cullen's side.

For three days, he made no sound or showed no sign of waking. Not even when Solas or Vivienne, whoever was available, came to change his dressings and tend the wounds. They offered to move Cullen down to the infirmary or his own quarters for privacy, but she didn't want that.

In her quarters Evelyn could watch over him. She was close enough to call for help if it was needed, close enough to reach her weapons if they were invaded but mostly, she had every possible excuse to be right there with him. She couldn't stand the thought of him being so far away, should he not wake up at all.

Cullen had been unconscious for such a long time now, she was beginning to notice a change in his body.

Under his eyes were black and his skin sickly pale, his cheeks looked gaunt instead of their usual strong stature against his chiselled face. Despite giving him water every so often, his lips were dry and flaky, making Evelyn want to peel away the layers to reveal the velvety under layers that were usually present.

She dampened the unruly blonde wave-like curls threatening to explode into a mess, sweeping them back in a fashion Cullen used many times. She grazed his brows with her thumbs, trying to unfurl them as he fought an unprecedented fever, it made him look so tense and angry.

Sweat trickled down the side of his face, rolling down his neck and disappearing into the bed.

Then Evelyn cast her attention to the scar splitting his upper lip in two. They never discussed how Cullen ended up with such an angry scar, but everyone knew being a Templar had its dangers and battle scars came with the territory.

As her thumb lightly brushed over the tainted skin, she could feel his upper lip tremble, a subconscious reaction to her touch. It felt strange against her skin, a brief gap in his freshly shaved face.

Strange, mysterious and undeniably attractive. The Maker had been exceptionally kind to Cullen over the years, gracing him with charming good looks and a body toned to complete perfection.

Under the weight of his armour and the thick fur he loved so much, it wasn't so obvious. But now as he lay out before Evelyn, under a thin silk sheet pooled around his waist, she could see what he was hiding.

His flawless skin a peachy white colour, almost completely hairless save for a few sparse, blonde hairs. His muscular chest begged her to run her hands all over it and his stomach, so clearly defined and rock solid.

Except now, his exquisite body had been marred by two nasty, penetrative wounds. Even covered by a thick medical dressing, Evelyn could still see them in her mind.

Two thin, jagged lines, splitting his skin open and allowing blood to flow from his body. She would never forget the way Cullen fell to the floor as the guards drew arms against the attacker.

The way his hands began to draw cold and when his golden brown eyes rolled into the back of his head. He had been so close to dying. Even the sound of the knife, tearing his skin still assaulted her.

If the Inquisition had not recruited so many mages on its travels, Cullen would not have survived his injuries, that she was sure of. Even just thinking about the moments Cullen laid lifeless on the floor made tears spring to Evelyn's eyes, her throat thickened and it was almost impossible to swallow.

She never wanted to see him so vulnerable, so gravely injured again. She by no means wanted to hold Cullen and hear him struggling to breathe. She certainly never wanted to hear her name fall from his lips as his eyes closed for what felt like the final time.

When laid in the bed, not long after Solas performed a healing spell to fix the Commander's internal injuries, he commented on the terrible bruising Cullen received from his fall. Evelyn dare not look, she feared even attempting to roll Cullen over might do further damage and she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing anymore, he was too special and too important to her.

Tearing away from her thoughts Evelyn busied herself by fussing over the injured man, resting her hand on his head in the hope his fever was passing, but the occasional tremble told her it raged on strong.

The sweat continued to roll down his face, a fever potentially brought on by infection or some kind of poison, Solas couldn't be sure but he began preparing all kinds of potions as soon as the Commander began displaying symptoms.

Evelyn reached down to a little wooden bowl at her feet, swishing the cool water with her fingers before grabbing the floating rag inside. Solas showed her how to give the Commander water, using a finger to gently part his lips before wringing the rag, allowing it to drip and keep him hydrated. To keep up his strength.

She draped the cloth over his forehead, letting the water help fight his intense heat.

It took a few more hours of the same routine as well as several visits from doctors and mages alike, all checking his wounds and offering up minuscule potions to aid his recovery, only then did Cullen's fever break and his eyes flutter.

Evelyn didn't even notice at first. She had been too busy pulling his sleeveless fur overcoat from the back of her chair, to drape over him and protect him from the crisp evening air as it rolled in.

Somebody had washed it, apparently taking painstaking hours to make sure every trace of Cullen's blood was removed. It had been saturated just a few days ago. Dripping with crimson coloured blood.

She had been so involved in smoothing the pelt of his coat down and away from his face, she almost missed the faint groan.

Almost.

"Cullen?" He groaned again, his eyes remaining firmly shut as he rasped and croaked. For a moment Evelyn could have lost her cool, scrambling to find the bowl at her feet again. "Drink this." She said softly taking a hand to his jaw and parting his lips to dribble more water into his mouth, he took a few mouthfuls before he stopped.

When she pulled back and dropped the rag, he finally opened his eyes. And thank the Maker he did.

Looking up at her were those glorious caramel eyes, desperately trying to find purchase with hers. For a few, brief moments, they just stared at each other as if they'd been apart for a lifetime.

"Maker's breath," Evelyn whispered. "You scared me."

He gave a faint, gentle smile, finding it almost impossible to look away from her. It was only when a sharp twinge of pain shot through his body, making him flinch, did he take his eyes away.

"Where... am I?" Cullen said, in a low and pained voice, for the first time in days. He looked around the room, taking in the bookshelf, the huge doors opening on to the balcony and the wide, open space. This certainly wasn't his quarters and it was too fancy for the infirmary. "Yours?"

Evelyn smiled, his skills of deduction were impressive despite his situation. "Yes. It's quiet up here, no one will disturb you."

The blonde nodded, closing his eyes for a few seconds while trying to adjust to being awake.

He felt terrible and wasn't really sure why, the last thing he remembered was watching an influx of refugees come through the Great Hall and then... nothing.

A fierce discomfort nagged at his stomach, making him wish he knew why he was in Evelyn's bed and why he hurt so much.

Why was he almost naked?

Why was he so exhausted?

Why did Evelyn look so weary?

The questions abruptly left his mind when he tried to straighten up into a sitting position, sending lightning shocks through his body and making him cry out in pain.

Evelyn quickly jumped up in shock, her hands snapping up to Cullen's shoulders, pushing him back down onto the bed.

"You've got to lie still Cullen." She soothed, stroking his hair and he panted through. "You almost died. Don't move!"

For a minute or so, Cullen lay completely still, almost wiped out by the pain.

His eyes carefully split open again, fearful he might inflict another round of torture on himself.

She could see all the questions swirling around in his mind, curious to find the answers.

But he wasn't ready for that, not today. The only thing he needed was her fingers, continuing to trail through his hair, pushing away the niggling headache that threatened to start. Her free hand had fallen against his cheek and radiated the kindest green warmth, her thumb just glancing back and forth on his cheekbone.

Evelyn must have noticed how good it felt because she didn't stop for a second, she just reached for her chair with one booted foot and dragged it closer to the head of the bed, effortlessly sitting so she could continue holding the injured man where he lay.

Evelyn couldn't imagine being anywhere else at that moment. If she'd gone away to the Western Approach like it was suggested, Cullen might have woken up alone or surrounded by people who didn't care in the same way.

Maybe Josie or Leliana would have been sat in the chair, they wouldn't have known what he wanted or needed just be looking at him. Sure, they'd known Cullen much longer than the Inquisitor but they didn't know him, not really.

So long she had wanted to hold him so she wasn't going to miss an opportunity to caress his skin, to silently stare into his eyes as he stared back.

The pair stayed that way for what felt like hours until Cullen began to show signs of tiring, in reality, he had been awake for mere minutes. Cullen yawned, his dark eyes growing heavy as he tried to hold Evelyn's gaze, she smiled seeing his head bob with exhaustion.

"It's okay Cullen," Evelyn whispered, her hands pulling away from his hair to pull his fur coat up and over his shoulders, leaving only slithers of flesh exposed. "I'll go, let you rest." She said while standing, getting ready to leave the room.

As she turned away, Evelyn was caught by surprise when he grabbed her hand with his own. Her small, dainty hand encased in his much larger one, he pulled her back weakly nodding to the spot beside him.

"Stay..." He replied in a hoarse, scratchy voice. "...Please?"

That was how Solas found them the next morning. Cullen still on his back, but half curled around the Inquisitor as she lay on top of the sheets still fully dressed, their hands barely touching as they slept side-by-side.

Evelyn stroked Cullen's hair long after he fell asleep, even found a book he liked and softly read for a while until even she couldn't stay awake any longer.

Solas dared not disturb them and allowed the pair to rest, forbidding anyone but himself to enter the Inquisitor's chambers.


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen slept for another two days after that, waking up periodically for around an hour before being overcome by his tiredness again. Knowing he was healing well, the Inquisitor began to attend meetings again, leaving Skyhold for no more than a day at a time to make sure she could be back to check on the Commander's recovery and talk with him for a while.

Night after night, they slept next to each other, hardly touching. Solas mentioned only once to them both, separately, he felt Cullen was well enough to move back to his own quarters, but nothing came of it. Neither half of the pair shared the information with each other either.

So Evelyn wasn't surprised when she headed up to her quarters to find the man sound asleep, sat almost upright on her bed, his chest moving gently with the sounds of his breathing. He looked peaceful, more so than he had weeks before the stabbing.

A bowl and spoon not far from the bed, it looked to contain some kind of half-eaten soup.

Evelyn was glad to see him looking better, now he was able to eat and drink, his skin began to show its true complexion again. His dressings had been removed, leaving two dark pink lines on his stomach. They looked both tender and angry, still painful enough to prevent Cullen from being unable to wear a shirt. Thank the Maker for small mercies.

Evelyn didn't have the time to admire how handsome he looked after finally being able to brush his golden curls because she caught a strong whiff of burning and knew she had to get out of her leathers. Stupid Dragonling!

One lucky shot and it had ruined her armour as well as burning through to the skin, it was only a mild burn, one a topical potion could heal up in a few days.

Confident Cullen wouldn't wake anytime soon, she rooted through her drawers in search of something until her leathers could be repairs, she then approached her desk with her clothing with the intentions of tending her wounds and redressing.

But this time her confidence was misplaced. Dropping the top half of her leathers to the floor must have been what started Cullen awake.

He scanned the room, looking around for the source of the noise. His eyes almost immediately locked onto the Inquisitor as she perched on her desk, with her bare back facing him. He knew he had to turn away, but he couldn't.

Cullen was instantly transfixed by the divine figure before him. A goddess with skin so creamy he wanted to run his hands all over her, a figure so slender he could wrap his arms around her, a back that arched and moved with the grace and elegance of a dancer.

There was nothing he could find that described the woman in front of him. A delicate flower. A heavenly angel.

He found his heart thumping in his chest as he drank in the sight and allowed it to sink into his brain, there was nothing, no one more perfect than the Herald of Andraste.

His breath caught slightly when Evelyn twisted slightly to one side, exposing the slight curve of her breast. No matter how much he wanted to keep looking, Cullen forced himself to look away, she would be mortified if he saw any more.

She would already be horrified at him watching so much. He heard her hiss slightly and couldn't help but steal another glance.

Evelyn stood up and was tending to a small wound on her ribs, it didn't look serious but enough to warrant her opening a bottle stashed in her desk drawer. It was supposed to be for Cullen's wounds, but he didn't mind sharing if this was what he got to see.

Cullen had to hold his breath when Evelyn extended her arms, testing her manoeuvrability to make sure the wound wouldn't restrict her. Maker. Cullen could have lost it right there, she was so beautiful. Her body so divine. Just... divine.

Her legs were unbelievably long and the way those leathers clung to her hips, squeezing her backside into two perfectly formed firm circles. He could look at her for days and never get bored. He could watch her for days and never look at another woman for even a second.

Then Cullen began to panic. He quickly realised the whole outfit was to be removed and that was too much. He felt wrong for even looking.

His already pounding heart was suddenly thundering as he turned away and looked down at the bed, he had no idea what to do. Should he announce himself? Should he pretend to wake again, making himself look totally innocent?

In all his turmoil and confusion, Cullen briefly forgot his injury and his squirming caused a surge of pain to shoot through his body, momentarily paralysing him as he cried out.

That was enough to frighten the Inquisitor into grabbing the nearest thing she could throw on, which happened to be the Commander's overcoat. It was miles too big without all his armour, so she slung it over her head and pulled the back down, covering her modesty but exposing her back.

"Are you alright?" Evelyn asked as she turned to face the man, pain etched on his face as he held his side. Embarrassed by almost being caught short, she busied herself by grabbing one of the pain relieving potions and rushed to Cullen's side. "Here, this will help!" She said lifting the bottle to his lips and placing her free hand on the back of his head, helping tip his head back.

What was left of the bottle was gone quickly. This was his punishment for snooping, he was sure of it.

Cullen carefully pulled himself back upright, fiddling with the bed sheet to make sure he was covered too, only then he was sure could he speak to Evelyn.

"Sorry, I-" He was so flustered, he could hardly string a sentence together before he knew it he was blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. That told Evelyn everything she needed to know.

Her hands shot up to her face, hiding her own flushed skin as she sat beside Cullen on the bed. "I thought you wouldn't wake up yet. This is horrible-"

"-I'll go. Back to my quarters-" He interrupted, not wanting the Inquisitor to feel bad on his part. He was the one that shouldn't have looked, this was her room, after all, her privacy he invaded.

This time it was Evelyn who interrupted Cullen. The last thing she wanted was to make an injured man stagger out of the door because she had been so stupid. She wasn't even sure if he had attempted walking yet, it had been over a week since his attack and he hadn't moved from her bed."-I don't want that!" It came out too forceful, like leaving wasn't an option. Of course, it was an option, he was a grown man who wanted to get back to work. He could leave whenever he was ready.

For a minute the pair sat in an awkward silence, something they hadn't experienced yet. They'd been sleeping beside each other for a few nights now, so Evelyn had half expected an awkward conversation in the morning, but whenever she woke Cullen was still sleeping.

She felt him wake in the night sometimes, his body cramped and aching from laying in the same position but he couldn't move without hurting himself. He never woke for long but sometimes Evelyn could feel him just stroking her back and other times, she could hear him huff in pain, so she would sit up and play with his hair.

Something he really seemed to enjoy.

It took a little time for Cullen's heart to reach a slower pace, it might have gone back to normal had the Inquisitor not been sat so close, he could never unsee the things he saw just moments ago. And the fact she was wearing his fur definitely wasn't helping. "W-were you hurt?"

Evelyn finally looked up from her hands, a wry smile on her face when she thought about who won the battle in the end. "Just a dragonling, nothing serious." She said bravely, pushing the fabric away to reveal a hand-sized pink burn. Without thinking, Cullen's hand reached up, his fingers brushing the skin just south of the burn making her flinch but not pull away. "I put some Elfroot on it, but I can't reach all the way." She said absently, peeking down at her new affliction.

"I can do it!" Cullen said quickly, realising he was a little too hasty, he slowed down. He genuinely wanted to help. "You've done it for me."

She'd done that and so much more over the last few days, going above and beyond what friends do for another. She gave up her bed, her sanctuary and her freedom for him. Evelyn sat by while he slept, took note from Solas and Vivienne on the care he required, administered pain relief while he slept.

She did anything Cullen needed and even indulged in reading to him when he woke and could do nothing but lay in her bed. The reading definitely helped. Sometimes hearing her voice helped lull him back to sleep and sometimes it helped relieve the pain and boredom.

He wanted to do something that would help her in return.

Evelyn silently stood, returning to her desk for the potion she was using and the rag she used to dab the skin. She let Cullen adjust himself to a comfortable position before sitting back on the edge of the bed. Something about his strong hands touching her skin made her heart flutter but she remained strong, she couldn't let him know the effect he had on her.

They sat almost silently as the roles reversed and Cullen carefully tended to the Inquisitor, trying to be as gentle as possible. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting her. Every time she made a sound or a movement, he murmured an apology, trying not to break his concentration and risk hurting her further.

He was so deeply engrossed in caring for Evelyn, Cullen didn't even notice the ridiculous grin on her face. It was only when he recorked the bottle and looked up, he realised she'd been close to laughing the whole time. "What?"

Evelyn shook her head. "Nothing. I've just never seen you so focused."

Cullen frowned slightly, not sure if she was mocking him. "Is that bad?"

Evelyn smiled again, this time less of a grin and more of a genuine smile of happiness. "No. Definitely not!" She replied, very gently lifting a hand to brush away the frown. Without thinking, Cullen sighed, closed his eyes and leant into her hand. He had grown so used to her touch in the past few days, he could hardly imagine going back to normal, being in separate quarters and waking up alone.

That was probably why he was caught so off-guard when Evelyn leant in and pressed a faster-than-lighting kiss on his lips. His eyes popped open as she moved back, pulling her hand away.

Her kiss sparked an almost instant internal battle. Cullen was dumb-founded by her plant while practically desperate for her to do it again, he wanted her so badly but knew it would cause gossip all over the castle.

His brain spat out different scenarios every second, could they?

Should they?

Would the Inquisition be affected?

Was it acceptable? Professional?

Evelyn must have read his face better than a book because she moved so quickly, it couldn't have been anything else. She slid from her position on the bed, climbing over Cullen's outstretched legs so she sat over him, her knees either side of his hips carefully avoiding his waist through fear of knocking his injuries.

Both hands grabbed his face and lifted his head, daring him to look her in the eyes. And just like that, he had the answers.

Her stunning blue eyes flipped a switch in his brain and melted his heart, he lifted a hand to touch her always pristine hair as it fell over her shoulder, his other hand taking her waist the way he wanted to for weeks.

She was too beautiful to let go, she was every thing he wanted and more. Just the right amount of love and care and attitude mixed into one.

She always smelled like the sweetest fruits and her name, Maker, her name just rolled off his tongue. "Evelyn..."

That was enough for her.

She smiled as she brought her lips back down to meet his again, this time allowing Cullen to reciprocate.

Evelyn could feel him smiling back as they found a rhythm quickly, their lips grazing one another and their hearts pounding hard enough that when they drifted closer, chest-to-chest, they could feel each other beating.

Cullen's hands were so much softer than she ever imagined, feeling them glide down her shoulders and to her waist was amazing, he left trails of heat anywhere he went. For someone who spent his time ordering men around and swinging a sword, he was so compassionate and so gentle.

He was so instantly intuned, despite being a nervous wreck whenever she dropped a compliment his way.

His lips placed kisses like feathers, they were there, but almost not there. His whole demeanour left her spinning.

Evelyn allowed her hands to roam this time. Floating down from his face, sweeping down his neck to his broad shoulders. Mapping out every muscle in his back, feeling them flex and ripple as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer.

For those brief minutes, nothing else mattered in the world. They were just two people, exploring one another's hearts and trying to disregard everything that happened in the last week.

Wrapping themselves in each other's arms was enough, for now, they didn't need to rush things. They were adults, but they were allowing themselves to act like lovestruck teenagers while they could.

And it continued that way until Cullen hissed in pain, the sound pressed against Evelyn's lips spooked her for a moment but not nearly as much as when she realised, she was causing him that pain. In all the excitement of finally acknowledging their feelings, she'd gotten too close, her knee pushing into his wound making him grit his teeth.

"Oh, Cullen!" She cried, shifting her knee and attempting to pull away. "I'm sorry!"

It was apparent she wasn't going to get very far though. With one arm still locked tight around her waist, Cullen blindly reached to his right his eyes never leaving Evelyn's as he grabbed a pillow and stuffed it between her knee and his hip, preventing anything else getting remotely close to his new scars.

Comfortable in the knowledge he was relatively safe from harm, Cullen pulled Evelyn as close as he dared, letting one hand slip under his fur coat and the other ghosting her thigh before whispering one more time.

"Evelyn, you're so beau-"

She cut him off before he could finish.

Neither spoke for the rest of the night.


End file.
